First Pitch

Well, I recently was able to check off one of those "listable" things in life. I'm sure we've all made a checklist of stuff we want to do before our short time on this earth is gone. Some may have lofty goals such as finding the cure to some disease, or perhaps helping those in need. Or maybe it consists of being adventurous or traveling to different exotic locations. Whatever it is, it is always a significant moment when that thought that had been bouncing around in your head and dreams for some time actually becomes reality.
One little task that I always thought would be neat would be to throw out the ceremonial first pitch to a baseball game. Of course, my original plan included me being begged to do it because I was either a famous athlete, President, or some other glamorous position. My dreams didn't involve me emailing a guy several times begging them to allow me to do it. But I'm willing to look past that little fact and focus on the fun part.
The date was July 9th, 2005. I was to be at the ballpark at 6:15, 45 minutes prior to gametime. *Side note: If you know me, I prefer to be at a game at least an hour and half before scheduled start time. I have a rule that I usually follow...If I'm gonna miss the national anthem, then I'm not going. I once went to Boston for the last Celtics/Lakers game in the old Garden. I was there at 3:30 for a 7:30 game. That was a little extreme (especially considering the weather) but one needs to surround himself with the environment. You don't just hop off the train at Wrigley and pop in for the middle of the first inning. It's wrong. It's embarrasing. And it should be punishable by law. My "getting there early" pays off. I was once able to watch Cal Ripken field ground balls...I managed to stand on the green parquet floor of the old Boston Garden while Elden Campbell (he was a Laker, therefore I hated him) shot free throws 15 feet away from me...I once shook Steve Stone's hand before a Cub/Phillies game as Lenny "Nails" Dykstra, Kruk, Incaviglia, Duncan, and Jim Fregossi stood about 10 feet away**
Anyway, it's always nice to see how caring and thoughtful people are when an event like this comes along. For example, I'd be willing to bet that 30 people, in the days leading up to my moment, said things like "I'll bet you bounce it" "Don't bounce it to the catcher, fag" "You better scoot up so you don't bounce it". Very encouraging.
But I entered the night trying to maintain the same boastful demeanor that I had when I originally realized that I wanted to do this. It was a warm summer night a few years ago and I was sitting next to my friend and fellow season-ticket holder Jake Hawkins. We had seen a dozen first pitches by this point in the season. However, we both noticed that nobody really gassed it up there. They all kinda' lobbed it. Shortly after, we began booing first pitches because they were generally blase' and lacked any of the excitement that the beginning of our National Pasttime warrants. I vowed that if I ever got the chance I would saunter out there, reach back and give it all I had. And, much like my email to a Dayton Dragons representative, I boasted about how exactly I was gonna' do it if I ever got the chance. "I'm not scared"
By chance, that same Dragon's rep replied to my mail and asked when I wanted to do it.
My mouth dropped to the floor and that swaggering bravado that I once posessed went out the door like a fart in the wind.
So my day came. 8,000 plus fans packed into the friendly banking confines of 5/3 Field...Home of the Single A Cincinnati Reds affiliate Dayton Dragons.
I was taken underneath the stadium and through it catacombs and eventually to a hall where the sunlight poured in. To the light and up the steps and I was standing in the dugout. The dream of playing professional ball is something that I am not able to check off my list, but this is as close as you can get to it.
I stood at the top of the steps and leaned over the top rail like I belonged there. Looking out onto the field I felt the previously unfelt nervousness creep in. It's that excited, nervous, worried jitters that one may get before a game...and for that moment I felt like one of the team. I watched guys tape up their bats. Shook hands with the hitting coach, Chris Sabo. Yes, the 1988 NL Rookie of the Year! I had a lot of time to just look around. My wife and kids were there (Ava's first baseball game!!!), and a lot of my family and friends as well as quite a few co-workers.
They announced my name, rolled out a red carpet, put my name and image of me on the jumbo-tron and I took the long stroll to the foot of the mound. I looked into the catcher, who earlier gave me some good advice. He said, in his deep Texas draw, "It's better to throw it high, than throw it low"...obviously a reference to the fact that he didn't want some liquored up bozo (me) bouncing the ball of his precious nuts.
So, I take the ball and look in for the signs, he flashed me the "number 1": Fastball. I jokingly shook him off, knowing that I didn't have the guts to try to snap off a curveball and risk it actually bouncing my catchers important parts. I nodded "yes" and started the full wind-up. It was midway through the throw as my left foot planted that I thought to myself, "I'm getting old..this doesn't feel like I remember the last time I pitched" (which was in 92 against Otterbein College). But as different as it felt, something about it felt right too. For that one split second, I was winding up in front of a packed house, with my wife snapping pictures, friends video taping it, my family and especially my daughters in the stands...and it all felt really good.
All in all, it was a great day that I had been excited about for a long time. And as we stood for the national anthem and looked out on the pristine field of green, manned by the boys of summer, there was no place I would have rather been
Oh, and for the record, it was a strike.
***I wanted to include this email from a good friend of ours, Eddie...enjoy:
Mike, I would like to introduce myself. My name is Shady McSlimey and I am an up-and-coming sports agent. I happened to be in town looking for new talent when I saw you at the Dayton Dragons game last Saturday. I was very impressed with your composure under extreme pressure and would like to talk to you about the possibility of joining our team here at McSlimey & Assoc. I am sure that you have been deluged with offers after your rare display of poise and power. Before you sign with anyone I'd like you to talk to a few of the people I currently represent and hear first hand how I've changedtheir lives. Not to sound braggadocios but here are just a few of the elite athletes and stars in my stable. Danny Amonte', Ryan Leaf, TimCouch, Tiffany, DavidKlingler, Mr.T, Eve Plum, Buddy from Buddy's Carpet, Mark Aberrantly( TheKool-Aid Pitcher guy),and my newest signee...Roof-Man of the DaytonDragon's! I know you have the same potential as any of these house hold names. Please contact me so we can begin to change your life forever!
Sincerely, Shady
PS: I hope I'm not showing all my cards by sharing this with you but if you sign before August 1st I'll provide you and your family with a free rental car for the weekend of your choice (Economy or Mid-Size, yourcall!).......*This offer not valid inCalifornia,Nevada,Pa.,Florida,Texas,Mississippi,Washington,Iowa or any otherstate where I have been prohibited from doing business by that states Attorney General*

Wednesday Advertisements

So, Wednesday night I got home from playing 18 holes of golf. Nobody was home so I sat on the couch and turned on the tube. King of Queens was on, so I started to watch. The show just started so I was excited that I didn't miss much. Later, the first round of commercials started to play. The very first one was for Coke. It featured the old "I'd like to buy the world a coke" tune, but this one was different. I looked up and much to my surprise was a familiar face looking back at me. Featured in this commercial was my favorite band, G. Love and the Special Sauce. The tune was, naturally, funktacious and good. I was pumped.
Follow the link and look for the title "Chill": http://www2.coca-cola.com/presscenter/av_advertising_viewall.html
I have this feeling of happiness for the band because I feel like I "discovered" them. (which couldn't be farther from the truth, as they were around many years before I first heard them) In any regard, I still have followed them a lot. Purchased all of their cds (including some rarities via eBay), travelled to Cleveland and Cincinnati once, Columbus twice to see them and also have "tivo'd" a couple of their appearances on t.v. But I feel good for them because, for one, I think more people will tune into the band and find that there is some great original and different music out there beyond what we are allowed to hear today. Secondly, I feel like I got in on the "ground floor" in regards to, what appears to be, their imminent success. Much like the feeling I will have in late January as I stand at Ford Field (site of this year's Super Bowl) or more likely, in front of my television, with a tear in my eye as the Bengals are handed the Vince Lombardi Trophy...knowing that I am being rewarded and validated. The endless screams of "Whhhyy" and "What the F*** were you thinking?" as I stand in my garage listening to the games of season's past with baseball bat in hand and shards of whatever it was that I just took a swing at in my fit of rage will all be washed away.
So, on with my wednesday night t.v. story. Again, I'm all excited with the commercial and still basking in the warm glow of my friendly television when the next commercial comes on. It's for Chase Financial whatever. Basically this: Man is doing financial planning for his family's future. His Daughter (about 5-9 yrs. old) is nearby. Her wedding is closer than he thinks. Commercial is full of "flashbacks" of young daughter/current soon-to-be-wed daughter. Final scene, newlywed daughter asks dad for dance, as he walks to the floor it transitions into him walking with what was once his little daughter.
As a man with three daughters, I sat there quietly until a finally took a big gulp and swallowed that giant lump that had been rising in my throat. Listen, I have little money and my financial plan is based on trying to decide on whether or not to buy the cheaper canned beer or splurging on the bottles...but I was nearly ready to take out all of our money and call the Chase Financial guy. I asked myself "what is this salty discharge coming from my eyes" (paraphrasing Seinfeld).
But suddenly, my quiet time had ended. I looked out the window to see my wife and kids pulling up. It was too late, they were in the door faster than ever before. The wife stopped...looked at me and said "What's wrong". I immediately jumped up, held up my hand and said "Nothing! Allergies! Pulled a nose hair out. Bit my tongue" and I was out of the room as quickly as they had entered.
Once my composure was regained, I went to Chase's website. It was the only way to explain my little episode. Remarkably, amongst the painful drivel of "mortgage lending" "financial goals" and other financial goobledygook, I found that very advertisement.
I clicked on it and prepared it's viewing for my next subject. I called in the wife and had her sit. I pushed Play and walked out of the room. 30 seconds later, I reappeared to find my wife in a tearful mushy ball of emotion. Ha HA! I thought to myself. At that point, I found no need to explain my earlier reaction. I simply said to her, "See?".
Here is the link to that commercial (look for the title "wedding" and chose your preferred video player) http://www.jpmorganchase.com/cm/cs?pagename=Chase/Href&urlname=jpmc/about/adv_chase

New Addition

Many of my faithful followers of this world famous web log have already heard the news through various sources (People, ET, Hard Copy) but I wanted to officially announce the arrival of Ava Kathleen on June 20th. She popped out about 1 pm with a full head of dark hair. She's a real beauty and seems to get prettier every day. I believe it was Broadway Joe Namath that once said "I can't wait for tomorrow because I get better lookin' every day". She has to be thinking the same thing.
Of course, now the male species is an even larger minority in this house. Zeke and I are the only ones with testosterone racing through our bodies. But I feel good about being a minority (although the white male is the most persecuted being in America...don't argue). Now I have excuses for my stupidity or apathy. I can now say that I didn't get the last pork chop on the platter because "the womenfolks' is holdin me down"
In all seriousness, I feel extremely lucky to have what I have. I am fortunate to have three healthy, beautiful, smart, and lively girls in my life and now there is no doubt that Little Miss Ava is quickly becoming the fourth.

Some thoughts...

Hello once again, faithful readers (all two of you). I recently lost a major supplier of readership when my buddy, Dean, decided to shut down his website that had my link on it. If you are here now, you obviously are a huge fan and followed me anyway...or you are merely related to me and feel that you are obligated to stop in occassionally to avoid the awkward situation when I ask you, "Have you been to my blog lately?". I have a sinking feeling that you are more the latter than the former.
.........I was thinking the other day...Do you think mommy and daddy earthworms fret over the day when they have to explain to their offspring the "birds and the bees"? "Well Little Billy, you are asexual. A hermaphrodite. See, you gotta do this here...and then this to yourself....". I guess when you tell an earthworm to go F*** himself, it's probably an odd situation.
......... Are you like me...are you sometimes thrilled by the misfortune of certain others? For example, think of two of the biggest jerks in sports: Barry Bonds and Kellen Winslow. Bonds, who undoubtedly is on steroids, is injured and will be for some time. This makes it hard for him to beat Babe Ruth and Hank Aaron for most homers ever. All I'm saying is this, Babe played in monstrous ballparks, was an out-of-shape sloth with absolutely no off-season training and he was able to hit taters practically anytime he wanted to while downing a steady diet of brats, beer, and cigars. Bonds says, "I didn't know what that substance I was injesting was". Sure, Barry. This, coming from a guy who has thirty personal trainers, built like a wrecking ball, and monitors calories/carbs/etc...and he didn't know that those injections he was getting was steroids! Bonds is a jerk. Winslow, on the other hand has two things going for (or against) him. Primarily, he is a Cleveland Brown which ranks him in the Pyramid of Life just below perineal shmegma and a kick in the crotch (if they were actual living organisms). Secondly, he injured his knee riding his new motorcycle. Apparently, he purchased the bike shortly after watching some stunt bike show. Somewhere, Evel Knievel weeps.
.........Lots of good music out there, you just have to look for it. Lord knows you won't find it on "normal" mainstream radio. You could listen to NPR which occassionally has some good tunes. But, in the meantime you will have to listen to their incessant ramblings about how evil anyone is that isn't either a A) Hippie B) College teacher C)Homeless D)Social Worker E)Yellow Springs inhabitant F) Hollywood Actor-type or G) Bleeding heart liberal. Also, for every great new artist that you haven't heard and liked, you suffer through songs like "Bongo Beat 16" by The Republic of Chad Symphony or "Zither Melodies" by some goofball that recorded it in the back of his van, located down by the river. Nevertheless, I can't listen to most radio anymore because if I hear the following songs one more time, I'm gonna jam pencils into my coccyx: Layla, Pride and Joy, Old Time Rock'n'Roll, Schools out for Summer, Rock n Roll all night (party every day). These songs make me cringe. Don't get me wrong, I love Clapton, Stevie Ray, Seger, etc... What bothers me is that these artists have an entire catalog of great music, yet we are relegated to years and years of the same crap.
But I digress, I'd like to thank my no-good-brother-in-law for turning me onto a band called Dispatch (among others). I'd say they are a little bit of funk/reggae/folk. However, they are neither a little bit country, nor a little bit rock n' roll like our friends the Osmonds.
I have a hierarchy of bands that includes masters of the likes of the Beatles, Zeppelin, etc... But I have to say my favorite band of all time is G. Love and the Special Sauce. If I was ever a groupie, this would be for whom I'd "group" for. I've seen them about 4 times now and would see them again if they pass this way. As I've said before, just three guys pumping out some big sound. The drummer plays some jazz-type funky beats, while the bass player plays the ginormous stand up bass and looks like he just clocked out of his shift at the JiffyLube. G. Love plays the harmonica and guitar. I can't classify them other than to say they mix to perfection Blues, Funk, Rock, Folk, Rap and Jazz (and I truly think most Jazz is terrible..a bunch of guys just banging around playing scales and people think they are brilliant). The greatest concert I've ever seen would have to be last october in cincinnati. Standing there I was in between goosebumps and footstomping. I literally gritted my teeth because it was just so so so good. I know I'm not explaining it right, but there's nothing better than hearing that perfect song or sound and just letting it "move ya'". They are awesome. Speaking of good music/shows, I recently just bought another DVD of a Norah Jones concert. This one is good but not as good as an earlier one from the House of Blues. I don't care if you like her music or not, you will love to see her play. In a word, I'd call her "effortless". She's so smooth, innocent, and sounds fantastic. Considering all of those factors, this makes her very attractive. She obviously didn't write Tennessee Waltz but I would put money on it that her and her band perform it better than it has ever been done before. Again, goosebumps. Also, Jack Johnson has a new album out and it is very good. Oh, and check out a dude called Amos Lee. Very good. People call him the female Norah Jones which is a compliment, I feel...but we all hate labels, now don't we...you bunch of jerks! (kidding) Family members, I would love to share it with you some time. Please let me know.
.......The day of the birth of our third child is closing in. I'm very excited about this. We don't know what it will be. It seems like everyone finds out the sex. That's fine, that is their choice...but I feel it's one of the last great surprises in life. I can't help but to think of that moment when it is born. When our children were born, the doctor told me "Daddy, you tell your wife if it's a boy or a girl" I think they did this because they wanted to give me the false feeling that I played an important part in the process (other than the very beginning...and we are waiting on the lab results to confirm this). With our second kid, I expected it to be a boy. When that moment came to proclaim to the world if a boy or girl had been born unto this world...I stopped and stuttered. Where's the "thing", I wondered to myself? I had to take a second look, as the room collectively held its breath. "It's...it's...It's a girl??...Yeah, it's a GIRL!" Great day.
........Why must the name Larry Bird be such a bad name to name a boy? Even I admit it would be hard to snuggle up to lil' Larry. Oh well...the search for names continues. I'm leaning toward "Benito", "Sammy the Bull", "Keith", "Vladamir", "Lamaaaaar", or "Wilhelm (pronounced Vilhelm).
For Girls, the frontrunner is "Lequisha Chantelle", "Desiree" (put your hands together for Desiree!), "Hillary", "Penelope", "Maria Rodriquez DiRossario". I don't know...they are all so good.
............One of my favorite shows right now is Curb Your Enthusiasm. Admittedly, I got into the show late, but I really like it. Larry David (creator of Seinfeld) is absolutely great. There are so many memorable shows. If you don't watch it and see where the show Seinfeld got its greatest contribution, then you're blind. Not to liken myself to the genius and creativity of Larry David, but my wife, during every episode, always says "You are Larry". For instance, he hates the "stop and chat" and goes to all lengths to avoid having to stop and talk to someone you run into. I do that. You just have to see and maybe you would see the similarities. Quirky, one would say.
...........It appears that my wife is in line to win, nay, earn another trip for her outstanding work. This time it is to London, Eng-a-lund. I will vow to each and every one of you that I will say the following phrase at least 5 times a day while across the pond: "Hello, Gov'nuh". I plan on walking across the crosswalk at Abbey Road (with my shoes off) while uttering "I buried Paul" (or "crannnnberry sauce"). Someone called me "limey" for going. If by limey they mean the crisp refreshing taste of lemon-lime, then limey I shall be! Actually, my main objective while over there will be to bring forth and teach the wonderment that is Oral Hygiene. I'll be standing on the back of a flatbed truck tossing out floss, toothbrushes, and paste to the clammoring masses looking much like Oprah throwing out shoes and books to needy villagers of some lost tribe somewhere.
......... I plan on going to see the new Star Wars movie. I didn't see the last one, mostly because the one before it sucked ass. Now, the first three? Top-notch. But I'd like to experience it on the big screen and bid it farewell. My wife told me something to the effect of "yeah, have fun with your light saber you nerd". Then I gave her a kidney punch and whipped her into the figure-four leg lock. Feel the burn, sucka!
..........Movies: Saw Friday Night Lights recently. On the J-Bird Rating scale (1-10...and if I have to explain that 10 is the highest, then you are an idiot), I give it a 5.5. Not a bad movie. Just "okay". One scene that I really liked was when they were walking down the tunnel to the field before the championship game. If you didn't get a chill, then call the morgue deadman.
I viewed Napoleon Dynamite again. Still funny. I give it a 7.6 on the J-Bird Movie Rating scale. I can't even begin to explain it, other than it has a quality that I appreciate in a movie...stupidness for the sake of laughter. Simple, yet not done enough to suit me.
Saw "Ray". Technically, a wonderful movie. Well done, incredible music, and sensational acting. Having said that, I like to view my world through rose colored glasses. I like to picture Ray Charles as a sweet ol' guy who pumped out some of the greatest music EVER. I feel the movie focused 9/10 of its contents on his drugs/womanizing. Still, good movie. I give it a 7.9
..............Television: I still think the hottest chick on t.v. is Jamie Gertz from Still Standing. She's this decades "Elaine" from Seinfeld to me. I flipped through and saw Pam Anderson on some show. Say what you will, but that girl (fake or not) is built like a brick shit house with metal swingin' doors. One word, folks "POW!" If you see a girl and say "POW", it's a good thing. "Whap" or "Wham" doesn't get it done. But "POW" sorta just says "Good lord, yeoowcch!" I want to bite my palm like Lenny and Squiggy or, like that old cartoon dog, stamp my feet, whistle, and howl. It reminds me of a time I was with Rosey (and our wives) at a bar and some woman walked by that was just amazing. Even the girls would admit that she was "put together". Rosey, never willing to hold back his emotion, just stomps his foot on the ground, throws his shoulder back and says forcefully "Geeezuuuuss Chhhriiisssst!!!!" And you know what, nobody questioned it or felt it was out of place. I kinda' admire that.
If you can, try to catch Cheap Seats. It's on espn classic. It's much like Mystery Science theater but to the setting of cheesy sports shows. Follow this link, you can get a little glimpse by clicking in the upper right-hand corner to see a short video of the show. http://www.cheapseats.tv/#
Could there possibly be more wasted channels on cable? If I see that old nun with the eye patch again, I'm gonna jab fondue forks into my own eye. There should be federal legislation banning home improvement shows on the Learning Channel or Discovery. Stick to bugs, animals, ancient pyramids. Forget the redecorating and home-how-to's. Leave that to Lifetime (following a very special episode of "You're Not My Mommy" starring Meredith Baxter-Birney)
Allright, my kids are home. My 30 minutes of solitude has passed. Enter, stage left, the rambling loudness of my wonderful daughters.

Whatever...

It's been a while since I last made an entry into the "blog" In fact, the last time I did so, the Buckeyes had just won their bowl game, snow was on the ground, and the wonderfully warm thoughts of spring were nothing more than a distant desire. Ahh, but now spring has arrived. It's funny how one's mood, and the mood of others around you can change for the better once the sun starts to shine and the mercury rises. The wife and I recently went on a trip to Chicago (through her work) It was very nice. One thing I like about these "little" trips is that they are short in duration..usually 2-3 days. I'm a "get-home" guy. I like going places, but I enjoy even more being home. I'm famous for it with some of my buddies. They know if we all go somewhere that when the event is over, I am ready to go right now. Anyway, being away from home for a few days with your significant other is a good thing. Adult conversations are a rare thing when you have two children around and one must cherish the opportunity when time allows. We walked down the Magnificent Mile in Chicago. Busy sidewalks, tons of people, beautiful spring weather...but, being in a big city also means you have your share of crazy-folk and homeless. As we were walking, this crazy lady came walking towards us talking loudly and rambling about something. Before I could write her off as a crackpot loonie person, I had to pause a second and think...maybe she's on a cell phone with the hands free mic talking to her freakin' accountant or something! Who knows. As she wobbled by (and I realized that in fact she truly had more than a few screws loose) I told Katy that "cellphone technology has instantly made crazy people seem a little less crazy"
Another thing that has been bothering me lately is the United States Postal Services use of the "pith helmet". As you may know, I have no compassion for the USPS. For one thing, they use civil service exams to hire people. That's a big clue. Plus, I almost had to rumble with the postmaster in my town because of the location of a mailbox. Long story short...mine keeps getting smashed by snowplows and baseball bats. I simply moved it out of traffic, yet still allowed Joe Postoffice the ability to still sit his fat ass in his car and lean out to deposit my mail. I essentially made his/her job easier because of the way I located it. Anyway, Cletus at the local post office denied it and...and he was shitty about it too. He told me their schedule was too busy to drive the extra 2 feet. I answered back that it must be a terribly difficult job sitting on your can 4 hours a day driving a car around some back-country roads. I also wondered that it has to hard to find the time to deliver mail while they are stripping/cleaning their automatic weapons which they will later use to shoot up the sorting room staff.
Anway, back to the pith helmets. If you're not familiar, a pith helmet is one of those hard-shelled helmets that one would typically find on an African safari or maybe an archaelogical dig. If you went to Disney right this minute, there would be a whole staff of college kids in khaki shorts and shirts wearing pith helmets at the Wild Kingdom attraction. What concerns me most that at some point in the long history of the USPS, someone made an executive decision that permitted the use of pith helmets. "Ok, we've got the blue pants with dark blue stripe (also in short length), we've got ski caps for winter as well as baseball caps if you want 'em. Now...about my other idea. Who thinks we should order pith helmets?" Was there, at one time, a rash of postal injuries that resulted from lion attacks? Were giraffes dropping leafy greens from their mouths onto unsuspecting letter carriers who were just trying to do their damned job? A pith helmet has to cost a hell of a lot more than a baseball hat to manufacture. Plus, what about storage space? I could store 500 baseball hats in the trunk of my car...but I'm willing to bet that I couldn't fit 25 pith helmets in there.

Buckeyes Win...show the love

I'd like to speak to you all for just a minute about a bittersweet feeling I have at this moment. It has to do with the Buckeye's win...nay, their Dominance last night in the Alamo Bowl versus Oklahoma State

I will start. My evening started like usual, care for kids, cook dinner, wash the dishes, collect eggs, and run a load of laundry. Typical fare. Of course, all of this is being done while my wife is burrowed in the den holding three phones (literally), the fax machine working double-time, and ADP stock flies through the roof. But I don't mind, I was born to be a housewife.
Later, I get a phone call from a great friend who asks me to join him in watching the game. Soon after, my daughter reminds me of how I promised her I'd take her sledding and, after reviewing local weather reports and seeing the thawing/rain on the way, I figured it best to get that done.
My story now brings us to this point...I'm laying on my couch exhausted after the 10 minutes of physical activity that I try so strongly to avoid saps the life out of me. We went to the levee where I once was crowned King of the Peaks due to my abilities on the toboggan. I once took my chevy to the levee, but the damned levee was dry, but that is another story for another day.
I watch a Buckeye team come out from the opening gun and completely smash the crap out of Ok State. I say to myself "They are a baseball school". I see Simon Frazer drill a guy on the sidelines **side note, wasn't Simon a key character in some of our Ohio History books from jr. high? He sounds like he founded a small township or settlement back in 18 something or other** I see the greatest linebacking corp (someone challenge me on this) in recent history blow guys up on every play. After every hit, I yell at my television's warm inviting glow, "Welcome to the Big Ten, baby". Even Trev Alberts (who is an outspoken Buckeye-hater) said that OSU was impressing him and kicking ass. WoW. That's like a muslim cleric coming out and saying, "I think Christianity is a groovy kinda' religion, Communion for everybody!"
I was fairly pleased with the frank and honest conversation with Lee, Mike and Kirk about Ohio State's recent problems. No sense in ignoring it. Ignoring it would only make it more uncomfortable sorta like when you're having a serious conversation with someone and they have giant twig of lettuce sticking to their chin or something. So they did a good job with it. Done, right? Wrong. The voice over proclaims, "Coming up at halftime, there will be a 8 hour expose on the Buckeye Football program complete with charts, graphs, Clarret quotes and transcripts of federal wire taps."
But, this is where the physical activity from earlier in the evening comes into play. My eyes grow heavy as my hands slowly slide into their "sleeping position" located inside my warm underwear. Once this happens, after about 3 minutes of scratching, I am seconds away from total REM-sleep.
This morning I awake pretty certain that the Buckeyes hung on to win. But then I think, most teams I root for have shitty luck. So I get a little nervous. I slip on my fuzzy peach slippers and quickly find my new nightgown (it's got a cute little bear montage on it..darling) and skamper into the computer room. I click on espn.com expecting to see a picture or a bold-typed headline, I scan the screen. Instead, I see a picture of ..hell...I don't know...Warren Moon..I mean, someone that isn't even "in the news" and hasn't been for at least 5 years. Over to the side where the little headline clips are, I see the first listing. It doesn't say "Buckeyes dominate in win" Or not even a cute little "OSU over OSU". The headline was basically "Buckeyes in trouble. AD lies..blah blah blah". I click on it, hoping to find a score and somewhere in about paragraph 12 it mentions the Buckeyes win.
Now, I know I live in a country where the liberal mamby-pamby media force feeds us political correctness, tries to impose their hidden agendas, and basically pussifies us. But when I can't get a good honest recap of a Bowl game from a site dedicated to sports, then I get a little perturbed. Am I wrong? Is anybody with me on this?

Anyway, allow me to step off my soapbox.

Wilford, Roy, and Petey

What's up with Wilford Brimley and why is he so pissed off at me for considering purchasing my diabetes medicine at a drugstore? Oh sure, he wants me to mail into some program he's promoting.
Man, he's just plain mean about it now. Anyway, I always will hold him in high regard after his portrayal of "Pop Fisher" in one of the greatest movies ever, The Natural. He was absolutely brilliant. I love the exchange when Roy Hobbs is hurt and comes back to the locker room. Pops is shaving and talking about how he should have been a farmer. Roy saunters up and said that he wanted to be a farmer too...blah blah...trust me, it's pure movie magic. But I love when Pops says "you're the best goddamn hitter I ever saw". Awesome. By the way, if you don't get goosebumps when Roy hits a tater off the clock in Wrigley after the "lady in white" appears..OR..if you don't have tears in your eyes after Roy hits a game winning rocket into the lights as his teammates all dance in the shower of sparks....well, you're a damned idiot and you need your pulse checked.

As for baseball, today it was announced that some of the candidates available for voting into the Baseball Hall of Fame would be Wade Boggs, Willie McGee and Darryl Strawberry....uh....what the hell? Did I just hear "Strawberry"? You have got to be freakin' kidding me. Let me give you his rap sheet:
Strawberry was suspended from baseball in 1995 and 2000 for testing positive for cocaine and in 1999 following an arrest on a possession charge. He served 11 months in prison in 2002-03 for violating probation on a cocaine possession charge.
Pete Rose is permanently ineligible for this honor and has to be reinstated very soon or his chance will forever be lost. Pete Rose is not smart...he is not a great personality. In fact, some say he's a big giant ass. But Pete Rose was a baseball player. Pete's biggest drawback was that baseball was first and foremost in his life, it was all he really knew and all he lived for. The man's nickname is "Charlie Hustle". Take away gambling and there are very few bad things you can say about Pete. Yet, he is banned for life for gambling, an act that Major League Baseball is against except when The Ohio Lottery wants to plaster a 30 foot billboard onto the centerfield wall.
I leave you with this decision....would you rather your son or daughter bet a hundred bucks or so on a sporting event or have him/her spend time in jail for cocaine possession charges. To me, it's a no-brainer.
For Pete's Sake, put him in the Hall of Fame where good baseball players deserve to be.

Random Thoughts

The Thanksgiving holiday is over and there are a few random thoughts running through my tiny little mind. In no particular order, here they are:
Went to Michigan for Thanksgiving. Started our journey wednesday afternoon while pulling our camper. About an hour into the drive, my truck suddenly veered right, then left. I looked into my rearview mirror while saying "oh shit, oh shit, oh shit" and noticed the trailer was basically by my door. I was jack-knifing all over the road. I went down into the middle a little where my camper then went onto two wheels. It was pretty freakin' scary. Luckily I was able to save it. It's the closest I've ever been to having a major accident and the closest I hope I'll ever come. Immediately after, I was so pumped up. My heart was racing, my wife was crying but all I could think was "damn, that was some great driving!" It wasn't until about a half an hour later that I realized how close we came to serious trouble...then I worried. Needless to say, I limped back home and left the trailer there. I don't know why there was nobody beside me at the time of my near spin-out, but someone must have been watching over my girls in that truck.
Once at the "cabin" (the next day) I was a little more relaxed. I went hunting that evening. We were all clear to shoot "anything brown" and I was ready. It had snowed the night before and the woods were absolutely beautiful. Fresh, clean, crisp. It's amazing how in tune with your surroundings you become when you are sitting 30 feet in the air in a tree stand. Your ears become your best tool and you hear absolutely everything. At first, every time a bird lands on a tree within 50 feet of you, you think it's a deer coming up. When a small puff of snow falls from a branch and lands on the ground, you expect to look up and see this monster buck. What's neat is that none of that happened. There were a million sounds and no deer to be found when about an hour into the hunt you start to daydream and become careless with your careful movements. It was at that time that out of the corner of my eye I saw a doe walk down the path. My heart started racing. (so much for that finely tuned listening that I mentioned earlier) I slowly grabbed my gun in anticipation of that deer walking into range. The deer gingerly made its way into the clearing where I could begin to think about shooting. But I then made the decision to not shoot. Instead, I stood there and watched this beautiful creature cautiously make its way to the bait pile of sweet potatoes and corn about 30 yards away from me. For the next 45 minutes I did nothing but enjoy the show. I was so close that when the deer went for some corn, I could hear her mouth crunching it. Soon, she made her way right toward me and walked directly under my tree stand. I coulda' spit on her!
It was really great. Don't let me kid ya', if an 8 pointer walked in behind her, I would have taken a shot...I guarantee you that.

I saw a comedian the other day and I was reminded of what she said while on the way home sunday. I never really "got" the whole sun blind thing that people put in their car windows to block the sun from their children's eyes. This comedian mentioned that "god forbid that we allow our kids to have sun shine on them!" So true.

People are talking about Brett Favre's 200 consecutive games streak (when he starts on monday night) and how impressive it is. What a great record...and I love Brett. He's an absolute stud and probably one of the top 3 quarterbacks to ever play the game (somebody please argue that with me...I dare you). Instead of appreciating it, sports folk decided that we should compare it to Cal Ripken's streak 2000 plus games. First of all, it's apples and oranges. Secondly, you are comparing a streak that I am sure neither athlete would dare try to diminish the other one's. Understandably, it is now football season and the NFL, and college football for that fact, are King...much bigger than baseball in America right now. What surprised me is the overwhelming votes for Brett's streaking being Greater. Football is far more dangerous, no doubt. Quarterbacks take more blindside hits than anyone. But Ripken's streak is incredible. 162 games a year 1982 to 1998...not to mention post season and pre-season games, spring training, etc... Yes, Favre plays a violent sport and plays through incredible injuries and his position demands that he be the leader on every play, but Ripken played in 2500 plus games with injuries too. I would take Favre as the qb on my team in a heartbeat. But at the same time, I would have Ripken as my shortstop (also the leader of the team) on my all time team.
Let's just say that both are two of the best at their sports and go with it...without diminishing what either of them have done. p.s....isn't it good that we are talking about two athletes like this? The topics are "heart" "desire" "leadership" and "guts" instead of brawls that spill into the stands, someone dropping their towel on the Monday Night Football intro and arrests...this is good for everybody.

Finally, how can Michigan be in the Rose Bowl? What's more, how can they be mentioned in the BCS picture? They got beat by a mediocre Notre Dame team (who played the toughest schedule in the nation this season) and then get DESTROYED by a less than mediocre Ohio State team. It doesn't add up.

Oh, one more thing. WHO DEY?!?!?! Actually, lost in all of the hype over the Bengals victory is how they can give up 40 odd points to the Browns who aren't exactly an offensive powerhouse?
P.s....I love the Bengies uniforms despite what others say. They look great!

The Fall Season

Hello all,

It's been nearly a month since my last posting. I'm hoping with the onset of colder weather some of my activities will slow down a little and allow me more time to do meaningless stuff like this.
The Fall softball season is winding down as tournament season starts up. For some reason, we were scheduled to play 3/4 of our games with a starting time of 9:15 pm. I don't know about you, but at 9:15, the last thing I'm thinking about is dragging my fat butt out of the house and preparing for a game. Also, if you factor in that after our games we are required by state law to stand in the parking lot and discuss strategy, this makes for a long night. Our strategy sessions typically last about 2 minutes with 1 minute of it talking about how great I played (jokingly). An hour and a half later, we decide that we should get home. This led to our epiphany as to why we were scheduled to play so late....because the director knew we'd be the last ones to leave anyhow, so why not just schedule them at the end???
Even though playing ball gets a little old after a while, I still look forward to getting together with the guys. I feel like a school kid being let out for recess...the doors open up and you just run and laugh and be stupid. That's about what happens in our games. We get together and laugh, goof around, crack on each other and just have a great time. The game is secondary. We still play very well even though we had our two season unbeaten streak broken early this season. Teams are starting to catch up with us. I'm pretty certain that it isn't them getting better but, instead, us getting a little slower and probably a lot less serious. I have to say that we win a majority of our games with defense and great execution. I truly believe that other teams envy our ability when it comes to situational defense, lining up cut-off throws, being in proper locations, etc... What is really neat about it is that since we started (in about 1992) we've done with a "homegrown" team of guys who all went to high school together. What's more, we are all close friends off the field. I've never seen a team that could boast that. We started our first few years getting thumped on a little. Spent a majority of the next years dominating...and we are now in the "Fall Season" of our illustrious softball careers. And while we are starting to lose our edge a little, I don't think there are too many more teams around that get the respect we get. Mouthy teams are a lot less mouthy when they play us. This is partly due to the fact that we have a few guys that wouldn't mind mixing it up a little bit, but I think it is mostly because we are able to just blow up and score 15 runs in an inning.
I've been a part of some huge games. Seen a "Perfect" game thrown by Mark Rose. 9 batters. The tenth batter was running late and hurrying to get his shoes on and get loose. No need. He never got to hit. I've never seen that happen before. We've played guys with watches and jeans (to which it is mandatory to ask the guy, "What time ya' got?") and we've played state champs. We won the Ft. Loramie tournament which, to us, was the biggest thing around. Why? Because drinking beer was demanded of your team and they served mushroom burgers. The organizer would call us the month before to confirm we were playing because they had to order a truckload of burgers for us. I've seen one of our guys hit 5 homers in a game..each farther than the one before it. The last at bat, the outfielders were gathered in centerfield leaning against the fence talking...the ball launched 10 rows deep into the cornfield behind them. We won the championship there one year and it really felt like the freakin' World Series. Mike Rose took a pitch (that looked like a strike) to make it a full count. With the bases loaded and down by three, he deposited the next pitch over the fence and onto the road. Game over, championship won! Our prize. A warm 12-pack of Shaeffer Light beer.
Best beer we've ever had.

Food Worries

I was sitting here at my little lunch break thinking of really important issues. Like... when they have the nutrition facts on the back of a package, why are the Serving Sizes always so odd. For example, on a bag of Cheetos, the serving size is "about 21 pieces". About? If it's "about", why not just round it down to 20. Why 21? Also noted is that the serving size is "about 2". If my math is correct, and there's an excellent chance it is not, then that means there are 42 Cheetos in this package.
But, let's get to the heart of the matter. What is a Cheeto, really? Is a Cheeto a finger length sprig of dangerously cheesy goodness, or rather a knuckle-length morsel which brings on a severe case of cheesgasm? I don't know. Is it really necessary for the Frito-Lay Co. to label the bottom of the bag "Cheese flavored snack"? Was there a big board meeting where all of these high level execs sit around a large mahogany table and decide, "We need to let the consumer know that this isn't actually cheese, but instead, just cheese flavored snacks!" When three of the first five ingredients are Ferrous Sulfate, Niacin, and Thiamin Mononitrate, I'm gonna guess that this isn't a wholesome cheese snack derived from some fine wheel of cheese somewhere.
While we are talking about food, I think we need to talk about cereal for just a moment. In this day and age, when you always get a little less of the things you need in return for your hard-earned money, how is it that when I eat Raisin Bran and/or Lucky Charms I am bombarded with an unproportionally high amount of Raisin and/or Charm? I gotta tell you, Raisin Bran without the raisin is just plain Total. When I get a nice raisin in there, well, it's like a party in my mouth. But just like any party, you only want a few of your close personl friends. You don't want to open the door and have your biker buddy and his 56 member posse trailing in. You need some order! Just like Lucky Charms, I can't enjoy the magical deliciousness if my mouth is scraping through too many marshmallow treats. It's like eating packing peanuts with a few toasted oats thrown in. If you owned a cereal company, wouldn't you skimp a little on the "extras" and stay a little heavy on the filler? I would think! Apparently, this is the reason why cereal costs $4 freakin dollars a box.
I don't know. I think we need some federal legislation to straighten things out in the snack and cereal industry. Someone has to get a handle on the madness!

Good Luck, Steve

At this point, I feel like I should start to post some very worthwhile things. Yet, I really don't have anything new and exciting to say. I could go into a long talk about how I went to the grocery this evening...yeah, that works!
A friend of mine, Steve, is retiring from work tomorrow. We are having a little carry-in lunch for him (this is the reason for the late night trip to the grocery). He's really a great guy who always made me laugh somehow. I can recount at least 10 different stories through the years of him doing something crazy at work that I'll never forget. The smokebombs under peoples cars...the Chevy Chase-like falls during company meetings. Walking around the off-site facility in his underwear, pretending like he didn't know you were there, talking on the phone telling the "other" person how hot it was over there and if he could "just get a fan". We've had a lot of great talks through the years. We've had a few good battles too. This is a man who skips his lunch to stop by your house to drop off a card for your newborn baby...all while wearing a doctors mask, for effect. Just a really good guy. I'll miss him much. Happy Trails, Steve and I know you'll enjoy your retirement.